@fondword-blog / fondword-blog.tumblr.com
re: my last post, this blog is being archived. i’m starting fresh - new url, new theme, rejigged and resorted muses, minimal drafts. like this if you want the new url when i’m done.
the new blog is officially done. the new url will be handed out shortly.
re: my last post, this blog is being archived. i’m starting fresh - new url, new theme, rejigged and resorted muses, minimal drafts. like this if you want the new url when i’m done.
re: my last post, this blog is being archived. i’m starting fresh - new url, new theme, rejigged and resorted muses, minimal drafts. like this if you want the new url when i’m done.
Uglie ass mobile post, but I'm strongly considering moving this blog. A new url, a new start, shuffling around some muses and shucking off the chaff. It wouldn't be shared publically here (although there's that many specifically unique muses here it probably wouldn't be hidden for long with them sticking out like a sore thumb), but I just feel....so weighted down here. I look at this blog and I just....don't want to write here. It's just an idea at this point, but it'll likely happen over the next few days/weeks.
Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY
Hey guys! I thought I’d so something fun this weekend, so I did my best to sexualize the alphabet and turn it into a headcanon game!
So here’s how it works. You send me a character (or a few), and the corresponding letters that you want me to answer for them!
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person) D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual) G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) L = Location (Favourite places to do the do) M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
I’ll have this running all weekend, so feel free to drop by!
“Why are you so sassy and mean all the time?”
In their youth, both twins suffered intense separation anxiety. They could not bear long periods of time without at the very least seeing one another. Even in adulthood they suffer greatly from it, though both have since learned to suppress their feelings. On reuniting at any age, however, you would be hard pressed to remove one from the other.
Although Skaði is not Freyr’s biological mother, he will still refer to her as ‘móðir’, mother. Nerthus left Nóatún not long after the first time she was required to kill Freyr, as discussed in this headcanon. Although Freyr will always acknowledge Nerthus as his birth mother for the sake of familial duty and the role of the son unto the mother, Skaði has been far more of a mother figure to him. She was present throughout the twins’ childhood, a source of love and joy despite her eventual separation from Njörðr, and Freyr loves her far more than he does Nerthus.
Gullinbursti is not an ordinary sized boar. Although he was made by the dwarves in their forges, he was presented to Freyr as a piglet and has grown/developed into a full fledged boar over the centuries. He stands SEVEN FOOT TALL at his shoulders, sloping down to SIX FOOT SIX INCHES at his hindquarters, and is predominately thick, powerful muscle and tusk and bone. His fur is gold in colour and is in fact pure gold itself; part of the magic woven by the dwarves at his creation. He is not the automaton humanity believes and depicts him to be, but a living, breathing, animal.
On Miðgarðr, Freyr often glamours him to appear as a motorbike. He has had tremendous fun riding a giant golden boar along a busy motorway when humans only see a man on an admittedly large motorcycle.
“Freyr is the most renowned of all the Æsir; he rules over the rain and shining of the sun, and therewithal the fruit of the earth; and it is good to call on him for fruitful seasons and peace. He also governs the prosperity of men.” – The Prose Edda, Gylfaginning XXIV.
“Freyr is the noblest of the gods; he rules over rain and sunshine, and therewith the fruitfulness of the earth; it is well to call on him for plenty and welfare, for he rules over wealth for mankind.” – The Poetic Edda, Skirnismol, pg. 108
Although Freyr is known as the God of Peace, he is still an accomplished warrior. His sword, Sumarbrandr, is renowned for it’s capability of fighting for itself, provided one with noble intentions wields it:
“Skírnir spake: Then give me the horse that goes through the dark and magic flickering flames; And the sword as well that fights of itself against the giants grim.
Freyr spake: The horse I will give thee that goes through the dark and magic flickering flames, And the sword as well that will fight of itself if a worthy hero wields it.” – The Poetic Edda, Skírnismol, pg. 110
“Then Skírnir answered thus: he would go on his errand, but Freyr should give him his sword – which is so good that it fights of itself ;– and Freyr did not refuse, but gave him the sword.” – The Prose Edda, Gylfaginning XXXVII.
and it is noted in the Prose Edda, that “‘There was small matter in [giving Skírnir his sword], when he and Beli met; Freyr COULD HAVE KILLED HIM WITH HIS HAND.” and “[Giving Skírnir his sword] was to blame for Freyr’s being so weaponless, when he fought with Beli, AND SLEW HIM WITH THE HORN OF A HART.”. Tame though these descriptions are in the mythos compared to tales of Thor or Týr, these stanzas do not speak of a wholly peaceful god.
Rather, Freyr stands as a deity of peace in Viking society; he seeks peace to a point, and if it is proven hopeless, will fight to incapacitate or maim, but rarely kill. Only the giants will he slay, sworn enemies of the gods as they are, and only if there are no other methods of resolving the dispute; for others, he will use both weapons and his influence over the light and earth to neutralise the threat. He is not a fighter to draw out conflict, but rather seeks the swiftest end to any fight possible – the war between the Æsir and the Vanir drained him of all bloodthirsty desire, as long and drawn out a conflict as it was, and had him swear to better uphold his status as the God of Peace.
Freyr is not so ignorant that he believes all conflicts can find their resolution without bloodshed, but ever will he try to solve them that way. His words are his weapons long before the stag’s antler staff or Sumarbrandr, but he should not be dismissed as weak or insignificant because he is not a warrior similar to Freyja or Thor. The twins represent two halves of war; Freyja the bloodshed and gritty way of singing blades and shields, and Freyr the war that can be waged with words and promises of peace alone.
sb: stop injecting your muses into r/wby
me: au where arceus and the creation trio created the universe as they do in the pokemon world. au where they were worshipped way back in the beginning of remnant but faded into obscurity as humanity forgot them with only ancient carvings and relics detailing unknown dragon-based deities. au where scholars research them but don’t know their names, only referring to them as the temporal dragon, the spatial dragon, the Alpha One and the renegade. au where giratina is thought to be the progenitor/creator of the grimm and is thought of as the og, but hates them as violently as they do the rest of the universe for bringing the distortion world into imbalance. au where dialga dips in to help atlas, looks over the schnees (jackie boy excepting) and feels a personal attachment to them despite it meant to maintain emotional distance from humans; where palkia weighs in with the mistrali and giratina is thought to be an extension of salem. AU WHERE THE CREATION TRIO ARE INVOLVED IN R/WBY.
Ruby looked on with childish wonder, her face so near the blade and hands hovering, itching to touch it. With a quick glance upwards, Ruby checked to ensure Freyr’s permission, before she gently, slowly gripped the handle as if it were her own child— or queen, considering the sword is alive and, according to Freyr, female.
The sword seemed to thrum in her palm, a sunlit warmth gleaming off of it as she raised the magnificent blade. God, she was so beautiful.
“I think I’m in love,” Ruby whispered.
Bright was the laughter to burst from the god, his smile broad and infectious. Children had always been such dear things, honest where the world was not, and Ruby was no exception. Sumarbrander warmed as she left Freyr’s hand, the gentle heat of a summer’s day radiating from the blade. Good though such a sign was, a mark of acceptance where she would seem a dead blade to others, dull and ordinary and entirely unremarkable, only wielding her would bring the true proof.
“Magnificent, isn’t she?” came Freyr’s agreement, calloused fingers running gently, lovingly, along the gleaming blade. Where his touch ran, symbols glowed in its wake -- runes of peace and wealth and prosperity, all alight with a golden glimmer -- fading as the god’s hand left the blade. An unnecessary demonstration, perhaps, but far be it for Freyr not to showcase his blade in all her magnificent, splendid, glory. “She was made for me by dwarves, on their world. Try and swing her, if you can.”
Should his gut prove true, the blade would sing in her grasp, shivering through the air as though she weighed nothing at all. Should he be proven false....neither heavens nor earth could move Sumarbrandr then. She would be a dead thing in Ruby’s hands, weighted down and sending her clattering to the earth. There would be only one way to find out.
@fondword
It’s been a habit for as long as Yang can remember. Dad always said it was because sometimes her excess energy pooled in her feet and woke up when she lay down. Sometimes it’s a few hours into her sleep, other times she can’t get to sleep at all, but it always ends in the same thing.
Yang, barefooted, alone and in her pyjamas padding around the house. Most nights her travels take her all the way outside, and that’s where she finds herself sitting now; on the stairs of their home like a smoker at a bar minus the cigarette and the beer breath. (She’s a little young for that yet, and sucks fresh air into her nostrils instead.)
There’s something white at the corner of her eyes, though, and it’s panic that seizes her heart at first. Grimm? They shouldn’t be so close to the house, they never usually come this far. Squinting into the gloom, Yang considers calling for her dad, but childish curiosity wins out over caution, and she creeps quietly across the grass towards the treeline.
There it is again, a swish of white too fast for her to pinpoint what it is. But it seemed to be glowing.
“HEY.” She barked, fists clenching at her sides. If there was a grimm in their garden, she’d make sure it left with a few broken limbs. “Come out where I can see ya!”
The return of a fledgling babe to her nest had not been the end. Try though Aras had, hardening his heart like a fort, his mind had been aflame with thoughts of the red-cloaked cub. Humanity had been friend and foe to the earth as long as they had walked it, ignorant to nature’s song -- caring when no wool could hide the fires of their destruction from their eyes. Swords and daggers raised to his kind, bullets delivered to the heart of animals pretty for their fur or feathers, had made the spirit harsh, a violent fire where once had been a gentle ember; cynicism had become him, distrust his throne, suspicion the armour at his brow. Humans had proven themselves conceited, swollen-bellied with their own importance, and so he had not cared for them.
Until Ruby Rose had stumbled into his home, scratched from temple to toe and determined to scour the earth for a mother long lost to her.
Thought of her had troubled Aras from dawn til dusk -- how had she come to find such bravery, such spirit, where he had assumed humanity to be self-obsessed, spineless? How had such strife come to her doorstep that she, a mere cub, sought to find the dead and cleave open the belly of the earth to find what was hers where no adult followed in her wake? Had he delivered her to an empty home, this talk of father and ‘Yang’ as much a front as the neatly painted door to the truth of her world? In the end, the spirit could not bear such doubts -- he had made the trip across glade and grove, traversing the forest as a whisper in the wind, in order to see for himself the truth of the rose.
Besides, he had promised -- distantly, in the far off way of an adult humouring a child they’d little connection with -- to visit. Surely his worries could be disguised as a fulfilled oath, and none would be any the wiser.
The little home reared in the spirit’s view, pleasant enough despite the isolation. Darkness shrouded the windows, moonlight hanging like silver dust from the tiger’s fur. Grimness set to the straight line of the spirit’s maw -- a fool he had been, to make the trip at night! Simply because Ruby had been wandering at this time before did not mean she had made it a habit! A child needed sleep, nestled to the breast of hearth and home, not disturbances from all and sundry, spirit and mortal, obeying the whims of a treacherous heart!
Sounds of approach pricked the tiger’s ears forward, a soft gambol taking to his stride. Perhaps he had been too hasty to dismiss Ruby, perhaps she was as nocturnal as the crow, perhaps--!
The call of a threat soon shattered the tiger’s thoughts, the buoyant light of his heart sinking once more to steel in his chest. Not Ruby. Not Ruby did not soothe his woes, Not Ruby did not cleave those savage doubts. But, as he padded forward, caution the armour fitted to his form, some mote of calm descended, soft and silver and light. This was but a cub -- fiercer than Ruby, baring teeth and clenching fist, but still young, still large in the paws. The steel melted from Aras’ gaze then, all caution shelved as he padded from the undergrowth, a shining tiger unthreatening to a human child.
“...Hello.” he spoke, as though a speaking beast would not inspire terror. “I mean you no harm.”
Despite multiple copies of her card existing, as discussed in this headcanon, Red-Eyes is the only one of her kind. She has taken many forms throughout the centuries and her spirit inhabits several cards; humanity has come to view them as separate monsters, but all have been her.
As with the Signer Dragons and other dragons of legend, Red-Eyes has servants and retainers within her archetype. In the human world, these have become support cards and monsters for the Red-Eyes archetype, but in the spirit world they exist to serve Red-Eyes, often shaped by her power, and can be found singularly within her territory.
Not all cards associated with the Red-Eyes archetype are spirits born to be Red-Eyes’ servants or forms gifted to her. Some are objects, present in the spirit world and translated over into the card game, while others are separate entirely from the Red-Eyes archetype, linked to Red-Eyes in other ways.
Despite it appearing as though there is only one Red-Eyes Black Dragon card in existence, there are four in total. Both Red and Blue-Eyes were created with an equal number of cards, their spirit attached to each one, and it was left to their own decision as to what became of those cards. Where Blue-Eyes willingly made all four of her cards accessible in the human world -- three to Seto Kaiba, sworn to his eternal service as she was, and one to wind up in the hands of Sugoroku Mutou -- Red-Eyes left only one to humans. This was the card that found its way to Dinosaur Ryuzaki, and from him to Jounouchi Katsuya, Yugi Mutou, and Fubuki Tenjoin. The remaining three cards are stored in her cavern home, hidden deep in the recesses of her territory, with all sworn to her sworn also to protect them with their very lives.
Red-Eyes’ reasoning for her frugality is simple: she is a dragon who may provide the potential for victory. In order to be chosen to wield her, a duelist must prove they are skilled and worthy enough to use her to her full potential, rather than unceremoniously shove her into a deck with neither support nor strategy. Had she her own way, Red-Eyes would keep all four of her cards to herself, depositing them directly to duelists she deemed worthy.
Had she had it her own way, Jounouchi would never have come into possession of her card to begin with.
